


Yours

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Greg, Alpha!John, Alpha/Omega, Angry John, Biting, Canes, Cock Cages, Concerned Greg, Concerned Mycroft, Cuddling, Cuffs, Dom!John, Dom/sub, Gags, Knotting, M/M, Omega!Mycroft, Omega!Sherlock, Orgasm Denial, Ownership, Punishment, Riding Crops, corner time, heat - Freeform, reckless Sherlock, sub!Sherlock, writing lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After another mad stunt has put omega Sherlock's life at risk, he has to face an angry alpha John and a disapproving omega Mycroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Must be Mad

Sherlock knew he was in trouble the second he saw his alpha walking, or rather pacing extremely fast towards them.

He held his hands up placatingly. He had just dealt with angry alpha Greg, he didn't need his own turning up too.

“John, I stopped him, he's been arrested, I did it,” he smiled.

“Hi Greg,” the doctor said lightly, before turning on his omega, he snagged his collar and snapped on his leash, pulling it taught, yanking him back in the direction he had come. “Bye Greg.”

There was a cab waiting.

“John, I-”

“No! I am not John to you right now, I am an extremely pissed Dom and more importantly an extremely pissed alpha, you have lost all say in everything from now until I say otherwise.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. He could see where this was going – another tedious lecture about safety and danger and putting himself at risk. Blah, blah, blah.

“Just because I'm your omega doesn't mean you own me,” the detective declared. “Those laws went out ages ago.”

John stopped and looked at him. “I don't give a bloody fuck about that. You're my mate. We're supposed to look out for one another. Maybe you forgot that while you were having oh so much fun on top of that cab!”

“I was having quite a bit of fun actually… I nearly didn't duck when that bridge appeared from nowhe-”

John was grinding his teeth in fury, he grabbed his omega's curls and dragged him into the back seat of the waiting cab.

“Baker Street.”

Sherlock didn't know when to shut up. “I don't know why Greg was angry. I'm not his omega. What would it matter to him if I did get myself decapitated? Besides, I didn't. I stopped the man. If you hadn't been so slow, you would have seen-”

The cabbie looked in the mirror and saw John's expression. “Excuse me mate, but you might want to stop talking about now.”

“What business is it of yours?” Sherlock growled.

Rather than be deterred, however, the cabbie rose an eyebrow in his direction.

“I'm an omega myself, mate, and I ain't never had my alpha that mad.”

In that split second John gripped Sherlock's curls and forced him to his knees behind the front passenger seat.

“You will kneel there, and you. Will. Shut. It.”

The cabbie shrugged, ignoring the now kneeling omega, he'd done his best to warn him. He kept his attention on the road. He certainly didn't want to be drawn into this. He breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled over to the kerb on Baker Street. It wasn't even a surprise when cash was thrown his way and the alpha led the omega from the cab without another word.

Sherlock rolled his eyes when he spied his brother standing casually on the front steps, umbrella in hand. Mycroft's presence was the last thing he needed at the moment.

Apparently, John agreed. For once.

“Mycroft, no offence, I've got one snot-nosed bratty omega to deal with, I don't need another one.”

“Don't mind me, John. I have no intention of interfering with your dominance over my brother. I have merely stopped by to assist you.”

“Piss off, Mycroft!” Sherlock spat.

“Enough!” John barked. He was glad Mycroft had already got the door unlocked.

“By all means follow us up.”

He took his sub up the stairs and straight to the corner cabinet where they kept some toys. He pulled out a muzzle gag and quickly buckled it over Sherlock's head.

The omega stamped his foot. Everyone was being unreasonable, childish, even. Couldn't they see he had only done what was necessary?

“Don't stamp your foot at me, mister.” John pressed down on Sherlock's shoulders, forcing him to kneel.

Mycroft had collapsed into Sherlock's chair, smirking slightly. “Oh brother mine, you don't know when to cool off do you? I may be an omega too, but I'm also your brother. You stink when you're all worked up like this.”

John pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew he needed to cool down himself. “Tea, Mycroft?”

The government official smiled blandly. “Yes, John. Thank you.” He fiddled with the handle of his umbrella a moment, then set it aside. “Of course, Sherlock, I saw the video of the whole thing. It was a bit reckless, even for you.”

At the raised eyebrows of his baby brother, he continued.

“Yes. I've been following you on CCTV. It's what I do when John lets me know you've gone AWOL. Of course, it's not like I have anything better to do with my time, what with me being the British Government as you so often put it.”

“Sherlock Holmes!” John barked, not even bothering to appear at the door. “If you remove that gag to argue, God help me.”

“Don't worry, John. He won't,” Mycroft called back. “You won't, will you, brother-mine? Because you know you've pushed too far this time.”

Sherlock knew no such thing. He had done precisely as required. It was no different than hopping from rooftop to rooftop in London and John didn't have a problem with that.

“Oh, he has a problem with it, Sherlock.” Mycroft read his mind like he so often could. Shame it hardly ever worked the other way around. “He would just rather you didn't charge off alone.”

When John came back, he handed Mycroft his tea in a civilised manner, but he slammed his own down on the table next to his chair. His left hand twitched and his head gave a little jerk. Grabbing Sherlock's leash, he pulled him close as he sat.

A huff was heard from around Sherlock's gag, but John ignored him. He didn't let go of the leash either, holding it tightly in his grip.

It was an awkward silence until John's phone buzzed, checking it, he saw that the DI was on his way over.

Sherlock deduced from John's face that Greg was on his way over. Now he'd have two angry alphas and Mycroft to deal with. For one very brief moment, he considered fleeing until the whole thing blew over, but he realised it would only make things worse.

Both of the other men, noticed when Sherlock had given up hope of escaping what was to come when he ducked his head like he knew full well what to expect.

The detective flinched a few minutes later when the door downstairs went. He heard Greg as he came up the stairs, his footfalls heavy with anger.

The flat door burst open and the DI's eyes fell on Sherlock. “John, he is okay, right? No sprains, no scrapes?” At the doctor's nod, Greg took another step into the room. “Good, that's good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I'll just stand over here so it stays that way.”

“I don't know what to do with him,” John admitted. “He seems to think because I don't own him I don't get a decision in how I keep his arse from danger.”

“I can always reinstate that law, little brother,” Mycroft growled.

The kneeling detective glared.

“It wouldn't be a general law. It would only apply to you,” Mycroft clarified, standing and going to Greg.

“That won't be necessary,” John waved away the offer, having taken it seriously. “I'm sure we can get through to him somehow.”

Mycroft had the audacity to laugh, but when Greg did as well John realised he may have made a mistake.

Mycroft looked over at the two younger men, his brother's head bowed down low.

“It's never worked before,” he said.

The doctor looked over at them. “I've never had your help before.”

Sherlock kicked the floor. He hated being talked about like he wasn't there.

“You have both our help,” Greg offered. He looked around his own omega at Sherlock. “How does no more cases sound? I hope it sounds good, because that's exactly what you're going to get until you convince John that you understand the gravity of the situation.”

John ran his hand roughly through Sherlock's curls. He knew his boy would hate that, nothing to quell the everlasting boredom, at least in his eyes.

“Think very carefully before you argue with us, Boy,” Sherlock's Dom ordered as the gag was unbuckled.

The detective glared at the other three men in turn, then climbed slowly to his feet. Mustering every bit of dignity he had, he spoke in what he hoped was a reasonable tone, “I didn't do anything unusual. I stopped a criminal. No one was hurt... Much. I don't see the problem.”

“Sherlock, for Christ sake.” Mycroft stepped forward, one omega brother to the other. “You rode a cab half way across London like it was a skateboard. Any number of things could have happened to you.”

“But nothing did happen!” Sherlock crossed his arms and threw himself down into his chair.

“That's the argument a child would make.” John stood in front of his omega. “Maybe I should let Mycroft have that law passed.”

Sherlock's glare was immediate, on all three men, but mainly John.

“What is the point of me then, Sherlock? If I'm not allowed to look after you or punish you?”

“You do look after me.” Even as he said it, the detective looked away, feeling guilty. It was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling. “I'm no good without you.”

“You seemed to think you were when you leapt on that cab.” John walked over and grabbed his coat, intent on leaving before he did something he would regret.

“No, John, please, sir, don't!” Sherlock had entered full-fledged panic mode immediately. He pushed himself to his knees. “Mycroft, you can sanction that law. Please, John, sir, don't go.”

The doctor's coat fell from suddenly numb fingers. He turned and looked at his omega, stunned. “What did you say?”

“Mycroft can sanction that law. You can own me. So long as you don't leave. I'll listen to you, really listen.”

John lifted Sherlock to his feet. “I was only going to cool off a bit. I promise, I'll never leave you, though I must be mad for staying. Still...”

Even so, John glanced over his should to Sherlock's older brother and nodded once.

“If he's in agreement, there is less stopping me from enforcing it.”

“But what does that mean if he does do stupid things against John's orders?” Greg questioned seriously.

Mycroft thought for a moment. “You and only you as an officer of the law and also an alpha yourself is allowed to carry out any act to prevent him or punish him if John is not available. I'll amend it on paper.”

The thought of the old laws had always made Sherlock angry. He'd always imagined himself fighting those laws, raging against them, but the idea of John owning him was... different. He felt a strange sensation settle in the pit of his stomach, warm and solid, and he could almost feel his need to rebel fading away, though he knew it would never be fully gone.

“You're going to punish me now, aren't you?”

John frowned for a moment, but nodded. “Damn right I am.”

“As entertaining as I am sure that would be, Gregory and I shall take our leave.” Mycroft took his alpha's hand and started towards the door.

“Wait,” John said, glancing at Sherlock. “I'm sure he wants to apologise for worrying you both before you go.”

Sherlock's quick glance at his alpha told him he wasn't being given a choice in the matter.

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Oh, Sherlock, you can do a lot better than that.”

“I'm sorry I worried you both.” Sherlock glanced at John to see if that had been enough. It hadn't. “And I'll try to do better in the future.” This time, the doctor nodded at him and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The moment Mycroft and Greg left, John took his seat and motioned Sherlock over.

The detective knelt, knowing the opportunity for using the sofa space beside him had long since vanished.

“I need to decide what to do with you, pup, and I need a chance to cool off a bit.”

He reached in between the cushions and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Arms behind your back, pup.” John snapped them around Sherlock's slender wrists.

Lowering his head, while he gnawed on his bottom lip, Sherlock had turned his back on the older man and let him buckle his wrists together despite his anticipation.

He then bent his sub/omega forward and used him to prop up his feet. Scrubbing his face, John let out a deep breath. The sooner he calmed down, the sooner he could punish Sherlock and, hopefully, put this behind them.

The younger man managed to remain still and steady, without his knowledge, thinking the same thing as his alpha. He just wanted the punishment over, despite knowing he deserved it.

John stood abruptly and walked to the umbrella stand to fetch the riding crop. He grasped it at both ends, flexing it and debating its suitability for the current situation. Turning his head, he saw his omega looking up at him with trepidation.

“Have you thought about the situation, Sherlock?”

The omega nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Enough?”

The detective didn't know what the right answer was.

“I don't know, sir.”

“Pup!”

“Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I...” Sherlock found himself at a loss for the correct words, a rare event.

Snapping the crop against his own upper thigh, John took a step towards Sherlock. “Tell me how to punish you so it will sink into that head of yours that it's not okay to play games with your life.”

Sherlock shrugged as best he could given his arms were cuffed.

“Don't make me choose for you,” John's tone was threatening.

“I don't know, sir? Make me repeat it 1000 times or something.” He regretted his words as soon as he'd spoken them.

“Oh, pup, that is a great idea. You won't say it 1000 times. But you can write it. And after every 50 I'll give you 10 strokes with my crop so I don't get bored.”

“Sir! That's 200 strokes!”

“I'm glad you can do the maths. Now go to the kitchen table.” Of course, John would temper his strikes, he'd never do Sherlock true damage, he only wanted to make a point. He grabbed a pen and paper and brought it to the table, then unfastened his omega's cuffs.

He took him by the ear and bent him over the table. “We'll start you off with 10 strokes just so you start to feel the smart of it, eh, pup?”

“Yes, sir,” Sherlock muttered quietly.

John didn't go easy with the first 10 blows. In fact, he felt a twinge in his shoulder when he was done. It should definitely warm Sherlock's bum and give him something to think about. John could be gentle later.

“Sit!” The doctor ordered, pressing him down to the chair, but first he removed the cushion covering it. “Don't need that extra comfort, do you, pup?”

“No, sir.”

“No. Because that's what you have me for. When you're done, of course.”

That was all that kept Sherlock's watering eyes in check, knowing that at the end of this would be cuddles with John. He scribbled out the sentences as fast as he could while maintaining legibility.

By about sentence 20 Sherlock was getting bored. But to top it all off the alpha was pacing up and down behind him, reminding him he was there. With the crop.

Noticing his omega's attention starting to wander, John brought the crop down on the table. Hard. “Keep that brilliant mind of yours focused on the task at hand.”

Sherlock wriggled on his chair. “Yes, sir.”

Sherlock had worked out that if he just repeated the first word over and over and over down the page the 50th line wouldn't come for a while

John rested his hands on Sherlock's shoulders, looking pointedly at the paper. “I don't think so, somehow, do you? Do it properly.” He squeezed his omega's shoulders a bit too hard.

He grunted in discomfort.

“In fact, brat.” He ripped the top page off. “Start again. And do not start on a new line each time. You can start where the last one ended.”

“But-”

“Now, pup!”

The omega blew a curl out of his eye and set to work. Twenty boring sentences gone to waste. He'd never get done. Sherlock stabbed at the paper as he added a full stop to the first sentence.

John squeezed his shoulders in warning. “Watch that temper, pup.”

He huffed, his annoyance plain.

John counted them over his shoulder.

“13 down, 987 to go, Sherlock.”

He might not make him do them all now. He might just let him know he'd be on punishment until they were finished because he could already see how boredom could creep its way in.

Sherlock finally made it to 50 with John coaxing him on. It would almost be a relief to feel the crop again. At least it wouldn't be boring.

The alpha pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat. “Assume the position, pup.”

He groaned, but lowered himself over his lap. It was better than leaning over the table. Not being able to feel John.

When he was done, Sherlock shivered. “Sir, please, do I have to do them 1000 times.”

“Well… yes, but…”

“But what?”

“Not right now, but you have to do at least another 100.”

Sherlock sighed in relief. “Hold on. What’s the catch?”

“You'll remain on punishment until you've done them 1000 times.”

The detective turned his head to look over his shoulder and up at his Dom. He was biting his lip, clearly wanting to ask a question.

“Go ahead, ask.”

“If I don't do them all right now, does that mean... no cuddles today?” His voice had gone soft and childlike.

“No. You'll get cuddles.”

Sherlock sighed in relief once again, this time believing it more solidly.

“But we won't play, nor will you be allowed on cases or even out of my sight until you've written those lines and you've had the designated number of fun with my crop.”

With a nod of understanding, Sherlock asked, “May I, then?” He pointed to the table where the pen and paper waited.

John gave one of the welts on the omega's arse a pinch, then let him up. He stood behind the detective again and rested his hands on his shoulders, the crop tucked under his arm.

“Get writing.”

Sherlock picked up the pen and began scribbling as fast as he could.

John was wondering what his puppy would choose. Days and days of isolation in the flat. Or get it all over and out the way as quick as possible.

Another 50 sentences were completed with much shifting and huffing on Sherlock's part and patient reminders on John's. The next 10 strikes of the crop were delivered.

“50 more, pup, and then you can stop.”

“Yes, sir,” he murmured, sinking back down onto the hard chair, his arse felt rough against it.

And both his hand and mind felt numb. He wanted this over with, but the thought of writing out another 850 lines was overwhelming. He'd go mad with boredom. At least if he stopped after the next 50, there would be cuddles.

But when the next 50 were over and John had delivered the designated strikes, somewhat far gentler than the first 10, he was surprised when Sherlock sank back into his chair, biting his lip as he began writing again.

“Pup,” John said gently, “you don't have to do them all right now.”

“I know, sir, but if I can concentrate on it, I had best do what I can. I don't want to frustrate you later.”

John sighed, dropping his hand on Sherlock's head.

“If you want to continue, I'm not going to stop you.”

The detective nodded, trying his best to get through them as quickly as he could.

After another 45 lines, his hand started cramping, but he kept doggedly going.

John had to force himself not to reach out and take that pale hand in his and massage the pain away. He'd let himself do that when the punishment was done.

Sherlock barely felt the next 10 strokes of the crop, it was like they were non-existent. He had no idea John had wrapped a tea towel around the end.

Another 50 later and 10 yet again barely non-existent crop strikes and Sherlock was done.

“I'm sorry, sir. I can't do anymore.”

John lifted Sherlock up and into a sitting position on his lap and hugged him. “You did a fine job. I told you that you didn't have to do it all at once.”

The detective sniffled and buried his face at the join of his alpha's neck. John was calmer now, thus his scent had shifted and was soothing to the omega.

“Bedtime,” John said after a few minutes of sitting on the sofa.

“Sir-”

“Ah, no. No arguments. I never said you would be going alone.”

Sherlock stood, holding out his hand shyly to his alpha. John took it and led him to the bedroom, where he folded back the covers and patted the bed. He knelt and removed Sherlock's shoes and socks, then stood once again. “Do you want pyjamas tonight, pup?”

Sherlock shook his head and clambered into bed, making sure he was face down and his bruised arse pointed upward. He tugged John down to do he could bury his head in his lap.

The doctor smiled down at the detective. Maybe he had started to get through to him. Maybe the whole ownership thing was a bit much.

“It's not too much, sir.” Sherlock shifted and looked up at John. “If I'm yours, it might make me think before I do something...”

“Stupid?”

“Ill advised.”

“You were already mine,” John pointed out. “Just like I'm yours. Didn't you ever think of that?”

“The thought had not occurred to me as such, no, sir.”

John ran his hand through his omega's curls. “Go to sleep, pup, I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock agreed, nuzzling into his alpha's cock.

***

The following morning was the opposite for John as he'd expected the night before. Sherlock wasn't beside him, he'd gone.

He rolled from the bed immediately and headed straight into the sitting room, ready to tell Sherlock off if he had to. He didn't.

The detective was sat at the table, writing.

He looked up at John. “You owe me 80 strikes with the crop, sir. Look.” Sherlock proudly held up sheets of paper covered in neat handwriting. “I've written over 400 lines!”

John couldn't stop himself from grinning. He put on the kettle and started slicing a melon for their breakfast.

“Take a break for the moment,” he ordered as he placed a cup of tea and two slices of melon in front of him.

“So you're nearly done?” He asked as he joined him.

“Yes, sir,” he went quiet for a moment. “Except for the crop.”

“I won't do them all in one go, pup, not after yesterday.”

Sherlock picked up a piece of melon - a not so objectionable choice for breakfast - and took a bite. He wanted to keep John happy, after all.

“How do you feel, today?” The alpha gestured towards the detective's bum. “Not too bad?”

“Just enough to be a good reminder, sir.”

John grinned. “Good.”

Breakfast was a quiet affair after that until there was a knock on the door.

Sherlock's head fell forward immediately and he smacked it against the table. “Bloody Mycroft.”

“Language, pup!”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Too right you are.”

Pulling up a chair, the elder Holmes tossed the folder onto the table.

“Why are you here, Mycroft? I'm busy.”

“Actually eating for a change, well done.”

“Shut up and go away.”

John could smell the scent from each of the omegas and Sherlock's was becoming annoyingly strong, despite his usual likeness for it.

Mycroft tapped the folder with his index finger. “If you were serious about John owning you, the necessary papers are here. All that's required are your signatures.”

“Mycroft, we don't want them,” John stated firmly.

Sherlock snatched the folder and looked at the papers. “Yes, we do.” He winced and glanced at John. “Please, sir.”

“The first thing you said to me yesterday when I told you how unimpressed I was with you, was that you weren't mine. You were determined to remind me that I had no physical power over you because the laws had changed.”

“I was wrong. You should own me.”

John face planted the table. His mate never made things easy. He felt Sherlock's hand snaking out to find his and he clasped it.

“I don't know what to do with you.”

“I do. Sign the papers. It'll be like wedding vows.”

“We're already bonded…”

“You agreed to this yesterday. And my arse still hurts.”

“You've got many more to come.”

The detective chuckled nervously. “I know.”

“I can't-”

“Do you really think Mycroft would bring these papers over if he thought it was a bad idea?”

John held out his hand and accepted the papers. He looked at them long and hard. “A compromise. What if I hang onto these?” He glanced at his omega. “I can always sign them later.”

“Let me sign them now,” Sherlock requested. “Please?”

“I don't know.”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “John, let him do it. My brother needs this.”

“Are you telling me too?”

“From an omega to an alpha. No. From a brother to a brother's alpha. Yes.”

Looking into grey green eyes, John nodded. “Alright.” He signed them and handed the papers back to Sherlock.

Mycroft produced a pen and handed it to his brother.

Sherlock signed immediately, then he leapt onto John's lap. “You're stuck with me now, sir.”

“You're stuck with those lines, you mean!”

 


	2. Behaving Like an Idiot

Mycroft had left almost an hour before, leaving Sherlock's ownership papers behind. John kept picking them up and looking at them. He hadn't signed them himself, so they had no legal weight, but the whole thing was still overwhelming.

Sherlock was teetering over the lines on the paper in front of him. He hadn't so much as touched the pen since his brother had left. There was the scary thought of more crop strokes if he did pick it up.

Tossing the papers down on the table, John sat next to the detective. He grabbed Sherlock's hand. “I know you want to get these finished, even though you've just been staring at the paper, but don't you think 80 strikes with the crop is enough for one day?”

“You said you wouldn't do them all in one go.”

“And I won't,” he agreed with a nod.

“Then… maybe…”

“Go on, pup, ask.”

“Couldn't you spread them out over a few days, sir?”

The alpha glanced at the ownership papers and swallowed. He wanted to forget about the crop all together, but knew Sherlock wouldn't feel forgiven unless he followed through and it was to teach him a lesson, after all. What his pup had said was an excellent compromise. “Yeah. I think that's an excellent idea.”

That left Sherlock with the dilemma. Finish the lines and just wait the crop out or just leave them for now?

John ruffled his curls, “As that's decided, you might as well finish them, pup, it's not like I'm letting you out on a case.”

Heaving a great sigh, Sherlock let go of John's hand and picked up the pen. He stared at it dolefully.

“Oh, get to it, pup.” The doctor stood and tousled Sherlock's hair. “The lines won't do themselves.”

“It's not you that has to do them,” he muttered petulantly.

John cleared his throat pointedly. “Watch your tongue, pup. I can always start the crop now and make you finish those with a bright red arse.”

The omega shifted on his chair. He definitely didn't want to have to sit on this hard chair with his arse throbbing. “Yes, sir.” He wiggled around some more, but just couldn't manage to get comfortable. His hand just didn't want to cooperate and... “Sir... I just can't. It's boring.”

John couldn't bring himself to relent. “That's precisely the point, Sherlock. Compromise. Get writing and I'll sign those papers.” The doctor knew deep down, they would both benefit from the security his added signature would give them.

John was able to relax, finally, when the detective started writing. He walked over to the fridge, got out some leftovers and started heating them up.

He figured while Sherlock was distracted, he could try and fatten him up a bit. When the leftovers were in the microwave he made a point of grabbing the papers and sitting down to sign them.

The detective kept writing, but glanced over to watch John. The moment the doctor had completed his signature, Sherlock leaned over and took him in a rough hug. “Now you can't get rid of me.”

John laughed softly, bringing his hand up to rub at his back. “I would never want that in the first place. Now get back to it. Signing these papers doesn't give you amnesty on those.”

“John,” Sherlock whinged, “please, can I do it later? I just want to sit on the sofa. With you.”

“Nope. Maybe, maybe, if you finish that and you actually eat something, then we can cuddle on the sofa later.”

“I didn't say cuddle.”

“You didn't have to.”

The detective huffed. “You're no fair!” He smacked his palms down onto the table.

“And you're an impertinent puppy looking for more trouble!”

“I am not,” Sherlock muttered under his breath.

Standing, the doctor went into the other room and fetched the crop. He went back to the kitchen and placed it on the table where Sherlock couldn't miss seeing it.

He caught his omega's eyes dart to it. “Sorry, sir.”

“Now get to it. I will not tell you again. You can keep writing until lunch is ready.”

Sherlock started scratching out the sentences. Every now and again, he started getting bored, but his eyes drifted over to the crop and he renewed his efforts. He wanted cuddles, dammit, and he intended to get them.

The alpha had to try incredibly hard to not laugh. He knew what the younger man was up to; using the crop as motivation, it was what it was there for after all. But the trepidation Sherlock looked at it with was like it would leap up and bite him on the arse on its own.

Setting a plate of food on the table for each of them, John sat down. “Just 10 more lines, then you can take a break and eat something.”

He couldn't help himself, Sherlock gave the food a glare. It was one more thing standing between him and cuddles.

The detective spent half the time it would have ordinarily taken for him to finish the 10 by trying to decide whether he wanted to finish them quickly or drag it out to avoid food.

When he had finally written the last word, John gently took the paper and pen from him and set them aside, then he pushed Sherlock's plate in front of him. “Think you can manage on your own, or do I need to feed you?”

To John's surprise Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I think I'll manage,” he growled.

The alpha watched him, torn between trying to comfort him or berate him for his attitude.

The fact that the omega actually started eating decided it for John. He let it slide. Any more attitude, though, and he would have to take action. It was his job, after all.

“How much of this do I have to eat?”

“All of it,” the doctor answered not looking up at him.

“But-”

“No, pup, don't try and argue.”

Sherlock poked at his food with his fork and chased it all around his plate, only occasionally deigning to actually take a bite.

John looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “It doesn't count as eating unless the food gets into your mouth.”

“I know that, I'm not stupid. I just don't want to eat it.”

The doctor placed his fork on the table and leant back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“What are you just sitting there for?” The detective grumbled.

“We're really doing this. After everything with the ownership papers and-” John suddenly understood. Sherlock was testing him, though he probably didn't even know it himself. He pointed to the floor between their chairs. “Kneel, pup. Right now.”

Still, Sherlock glared, defiance making itself clear in his posture alone.

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

When Sherlock refused to move John stood, but that seemed to knock some sense into him, he threw himself to the floor on his knees.

“Good, but a bit late.” John sat back down and picked up Sherlock's fork. “I'll have to punish you for that after you finish eating. Open up.” He brought the forkful of food to Sherlock's lips.

“Why?” He asked, leaning away from the mouthful hovering there, waiting.

“Why what?” John struggled to remain above his patience.

“Why do you have to punish me? Isn't that stupid, boring task enough?”

That was it, John wasn't going to allow this to escalate. “Obviously not.” He grabbed the detective by the curls as he stood, then pulled him into the living room. Sherlock had to crawl fast to keep up.

He deposited him by the sofa and collected the papers he had just signed.

“You know what these mean, don't you, Sherlock? You wanted this after all. It means you're mine to do as I please. If I want you to eat, you'll bloody well eat. No arguments. If I see a need to punish you, I will. Now go to the corner, hands behind your head.”

The detective's nostrils flared once as he debated pushing John further, but the look his alpha - his Dom - gave him made him think better of it. Sherlock crawled over to the corner and assumed the prescribed position.

John let out a pointed huff, hoping to get across his displeasure in such a simple way.

The slight hunching of the omega's shoulders suggested he had understood what it meant, but he moved, rocking from knee to knee.

“Behave yourself, Sherlock!” The alpha barked.

Sherlock leaned forward, hitting his head against the wall in the corner. It was so unfair! He wanted cuddles and he was stuck staring at stupid, boring wallpaper.

“None of that, pup. I'll not have you give yourself concussion.”

“This isn't fair!” Sherlock yelled, putting his thoughts into words. He couldn't stop himself from standing up.

However, when he heard John's footsteps coming up behind him with purpose he dropped again. The alpha took his curls in his fist again. “I get it, pup. I really do. You've just handed yourself over to me completely with those papers. Now you're testing me.” John gave a pull on Sherlock's curls. “But you should know better than that by now. This is your last warning. Behave. If you don't, those 80 strokes with the crop will all be happening today.”

The detective bit his lip, after trying hard to get them spread out over a few days it would be pointless to wind the alpha up further.

He sighed. “Sorry, sir.”

John let go of Sherlock's hair, then smoothed it down with his hand. “Good decision.” He decided to help his pup out and fetched a pair of cuffs then put them on him. “Maybe that will ground you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. His sigh this time was a lot quieter.

With that, John spun on his toe and headed off toward his laptop.

Sherlock tugged at the cuffs experimentally. They didn't offer any give whatsoever. He should be able to settle himself, he knew that, but he simply couldn't. Or he didn't want to. The simple task felt beyond him and the idea that John wasn't paying him the attention he wanted didn't help matters.

John didn't want to interrupt his omega, the brat needed to learn to control himself on his own. He had been working on updating his blog for several minutes. He was so busy trying to describe Sherlock's latest antics that he didn't notice the detective had moved from his position until he felt him rest his head against his thigh.

He wanted to drop his hand to his curls, to comfort him, but his omega had blatantly disobeyed him. Again.

He placed his laptop on the table and pushed his fingers deep into Sherlock's curls. He tugged them hard. “Are you asking for punishment, boy?!”

“John, sir, no, but I couldn't -”

“Enough!” The doctor pointed to Sherlock’s chair. “Go lay down on your chair with your arse presented to the room. It's punishment you're getting.”

“John-”

“Sherlock! Enough!” John barked. “Earlier you were testing me, now you are asking for punishment. Are the rest of those lines and the 100 or so crop count not enough for you?”

“Sir-”

John's stern tone made Sherlock comply, he didn't look impressed however.

Shaking his head, John went and fetched the crop. He walked over to stand behind Sherlock and just looked at him. It seemed absurd that his pup would keep pushing, but even now, the detective was acting restless, wiggling his feet.

John swung the crop absently, letting it make the 'whoosh' sound as it cracked through the air.

The wiggling stopped briefly, but resumed shortly thereafter. The alpha made sure the next time the crop cut through the air it hit Sherlock squarely on his sit spot.

“Ow!” the omega shouted as he jerked at the shock of pain. Now he had done it - pushed John too far. Sherlock was furious with himself and annoyed with the doctor at the same time.

John didn't care for his boy's opinion, he made sure to strike the first 20 hard. The following 10 came a little softer.

“Corner,” he hissed, deciding he was done for the moment.

Sherlock's arse was throbbing like mad, but he daren't reach down to rub at it, despite his cuffed hands being so closed to the red flesh.

The detective knee-walked to the corner and knelt there. He was much more subdued now that his bum stung like mad - he could feel it throbbing with his heartbeat. He managed a full 15 minutes without moving.

He didn't know why he couldn't have done this earlier. It would have been a lot less painful.

“5 more minutes, boy!” John ordered when the omega began to shift slightly. He didn't add that he planned to make his brat finish those lines before anything resembling 'cuddles' happened.

The moment the five minutes were up, Sherlock started to get up from the corner, but he stopped himself. He didn't want to risk more blows with the crop, not quite yet. John came up behind him and started massaging his neck. “Good job. When I unfasten the cuffs, you're to go straight to the kitchen and finish your lines. Without fidgeting, might I add.”

“Yes, sir,” he whispered softly.

John slotted the keys into the cuffs and removed them. The omega pushed himself to his feet.

With a depressed glance at John, he headed over to the kitchen table.

It didn't take him long to finally finish his task, not with his arse aching and urging him to hurry. He carefully placed the pen on the table and stacked the papers neatly before looking up and calling out, “I've finished, sir.”

Sherlock nearly got up and walked into the other room when a minute had passed and John still hadn't shown up but he stopped himself.

It was a further two minutes before the doctor appeared, he walked straight passed Sherlock and into the kitchen. When he reappeared he held a plate full of toast and a cup of tea.

“You barely touched your lunch. Eat that.”

The look Sherlock directed at the toast was suitable for use on Anderson, but he picked it up without a word and began eating. If he didn't get cuddles after this, he was determined to do a runner. He'd find a place and hide out until John had had enough time to come to his senses.

The doctor watched him carefully as he actually ate.

He wasn't completely calm about Sherlock's attitude, not by a long way, but he wouldn't go back on his promise of cuddles. He'd just insure his brat knew how unhappy he still was.

When Sherlock finished the last bite of toast, he washed it down with the tea, then he turned expectantly to John. He even made an effort to keep the look on his face respectful.

John smiled at him and cupped his cheek with his hand. “There now, that's all done with.” He watched his pup for a moment, trying to gauge Sherlock's attitude. “I believe there was the promise of cuddle.”

Sherlock leapt to his feet and grabbed his alpha's hand, pulling him towards the other room and the sofa.

“No.”

John's one word had the detective dropping his hand and turning around expectantly.

“Bed.”

“But…” he trailed off not wanting to argue further, if he was lucky that would be the only crop he was on the receiving end of today. Sighing softly, he turned and walked towards the bedroom, looking over his shoulder to check John was following.

When they were settled on the bed, John ran his hands through his puppy's hair. “When the cuddling is over you are going to have a nap.”

Sherlock sighed, but decided he'd save his complaints for later. Besides, it felt wonderful laying there with John running his fingers through his hair.

He couldn't help but notice that John’s fingers were far rougher than they would be usually. His alpha was still upset then, most likely only doing this bit because he never broke a promise.

The detective bit his lip. “I'm sorry, sir.” He knew that wasn't enough. “I don't know what got into me. I just... I don't know,” he finished lamely.

John's movements smoothed as he began to relax. He kissed his pup on the back of his head, then wrapped his arm around him. “I know, pup, I know. It's been an eventful morning and that's why you haven't been on the receiving end of the rest of that tally of yours.”

Sherlock nodded, he was feeling rather annoyed with himself. He snuggled back into John. “I've been behaving like an idiot, haven't I?”

The doctor snorted. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No, sir.”

John's chuckle was dry. He gave his boy one tight squeeze before he began to shift, out of the bed.

“Sir, please don't go.”

“You need to sleep. Before you become more of a whiny brat.”

“I can't sleep if you leave me, sir.” He sat up on the bed and looked at John with sad eyes. “I promise I'll try to sleep if you stay.”

The doctor was torn. He couldn't decide if it would be giving in if he lay back down or not. He decided it wouldn't be if he left as soon as his boy was asleep.

He settled himself back down on the bed. “Get comfy. I'll be here no longer than half an hour.” He reached over to the unit to gather up his book.

Sherlock rolled over and snuggled up against his alpha. He wrapped his arm around John's waist. It was the most content and peaceful he had felt all day. “Thank you, sir.”

John didn't speak, just nodded gruffly.

The sound of heavy breathing 17 minutes later notified John of Sherlock actually being asleep.

Kissing him briefly, he slipped out of bed again.

Pausing in the doorway, John smiled at the peaceful look on his pup's face. “Love you, git.”

It was over 3 hours later that Sherlock reappeared.

He was quiet as John looked up and saw his silhouette in the hallway.

His hair was more of a mess than normal and he had a sheepish look on his face. He came into the living room and hesitantly knelt at John's feet. “I feel better,” he reluctantly admitted. “Thank you for staying with me until I fell asleep.”

John nodded once, content on just letting him kneel there, calmly for a while.

Sherlock knelt silently whilst his alpha finished typing up whatever it was he was typing on his laptop.

When John set it aside, Sherlock climbed up into his lap. “My bum still hurts.”

“I doubt it hurts very badly. I took it rather easy on you for some of those strikes.” He kissed Sherlock on the cheek. “But if you behave, I'll give it a massage tonight.”

Sherlock grinned broadly.

John held his finger up placatingly. “That does not mean it will turn into play. Your heat is a way off and you are still on punishment. I'm inclined to drag it out even longer after your performance today.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, the omega let his head drop on John's shoulder. The doctor's neck was just right there, begging to be kissed. He pressed his lips against golden flesh, his tongue snaking out to lick it.

The doctor let him. He was unsure where to go from there… but this seemed fine for now.


	3. Chapter 3

John woke to find a very anxious omega sitting on the edge of the bed staring at him. In Sherlock's hand was the riding crop.

“What have you done, pup?” the doctor asked as he stretched and yawned.

“Nothing new, sir. I just hoped... There are only 20 strikes of the crop left on my punishment, sir. It was my hope that you would finish them this morning, John, sir.”

The alpha took the crop in his hand. “Maybe. If you eat without argument.”

Sherlock wanted to argue. It was like he had to earn the crop when he didn't particularly want it. He supposed it was earning the end of his punishment. Sighing softly, he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Breakfast went so smoothly that John pinched himself to be certain he wasn't dreaming. When they had both finished eating, he pushed back from the table and patted his lap. “Come have a seat, pup.”

Sherlock sucked in his bottom lip and moved to sit on his Dom's lap.

“What's this about? Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a compliant boy now and then, but this is unexpected.”

Sherlock dropped his head to John's shoulder. “I'm tired of you being angry with me. I want this over. I want to be forgiven.”

John hummed.

“It's like you're mad all the time, sir. I don't like it.”

The doctor just hummed again.

Sherlock sighed and started to get up, but John held him tight. “I didn't say no, pup.” He buried his nose in Sherlock's curls and inhaled. “You smell good, contrite. So, ok. Go lay across my chair and we'll get this done.”

Sherlock knew better than to ask for a different position (over John's lap) despite wanting to. Before laying over John's chair, he pulled his pyjama bottoms and pants down low, almost to his knees. He lay over the armrest and buried his face in his hands. He kept telling himself it would soon be over and he would be forgiven. Maybe John would even hold him and pet his curls if he was lucky.

John took his time wandering over to his puppy.

Sherlock looked nervous with anticipation.

Cupping one of the omega's arse cheeks, John noted that it still showed evidence of previous croppings. As contrite as his boy smelled, he decided he'd take it somewhat easy on Sherlock. Stepping back, John delivered a stinging first blow, then two more like it. The omega's arse started dancing around in pain almost instantly. The remaining blows fell with diminishing strength per blow so that the last one was delivered almost feather light.

Sherlock bit his lip to keep from crying out.

“Hey, it's all alright.” John shifted around and lifted him up to settle himself beneath him.

The omega still smelled contrite, but now there was an added component of tension to his scent. The doctor began petting his boy's curls and murmuring soothing words to him. He had no idea what he was saying, nonsense, really, but it seemed to be working. Sherlock started to relax. “Is that better?” John asked.

Sherlock didn't respond.

“Hey,” he called and looped his finger into his collar to pull his head back. “I asked you a question.”

“Immensely, sir,” the omega breathed.

John caught yet another change in his boy's scent. Oh, it was a delicious change, it was a very arousing change, but he wasn't sure he wanted to oblige his boy... yet. He just let Sherlock's head settle in his lap, not wanting to rush him at all.

That wasn't quite what the omega wanted. He started nuzzling at his alpha's crotch. He snuffled and sniffed and licked at the front of John's pyjama bottoms.

“Oi, pup, cool it!”

He dropped his palm on the detective's warm arse.

“But-”

“You are 7 minutes off punishment. Do not push your luck.”

Sherlock huffed, but desisted. Instead he wiggled his bum, hoping to at least get a bit of a massage for the poor thing.

With a chuckle, John began running his hand over his sub's pretty arse. He soothed away the hurt and ran his fingers lightly over the few welts that still remained.

Sherlock was enjoying it so much that he drifted off to sleep.

When his puppy's breathing evened out John smiled, he would bet a large sum that Sherlock had been sat on the edge of that bed most of the night.

He managed to reach a book and prop it up on the detective's bum. He decided he'd read for a while and let his omega get some much needed rest. After that, well, it had been quite some time since they had played. Maybe it was time to change that. Then again, they might skip the play and go for something more vanilla.

Sherlock slept for hours, John even contemplated waking him up because he wouldn't sleep that evening if he didn't. A few minutes later and it was decided. The alpha ran his fingers along the cleft of Sherlock's arse, over his hole, along his perineum, and down to caress his bollocks.

Sherlock stirred, cracking one eye open and smiling. “John, sir. Did you want something?”

“Oh, most definitely.” He put both hands on Sherlock's side and pushed.

The detective ended up on the floor in a huffy heap.

“Time for some fun,” John said clapping his hands together. He suddenly wanted to do something that wasn't extremely vanilla.

Hooking a finger in Sherlock's collar, he dragged him to the playroom. The first the John did was put on a knot ring. Whatever they did, he intended to make things last and have his omega begging for his knot, heat or no heat.

He pushed him to his knees, watching as he grinned widely. He checked the ring and then waved his partially hard cock in his pup's face, he could see him wanting to latch onto it. “Oh no, pup, you've got to earn that,” he chuckled.

“John, you want me. I can smell it.”

“Mm, yes. Yes I do.” The alpha held out his fingers in front of his pup's mouth. “Show me what you want to do with that mouth of yours.”

Sherlock sucked his fingers in enthusiastically and it led to John brushing his pup's curls with his hands.

Abruptly, the Dom pulled on the detective's curls, eliciting a wanton moan from his pup. He looked down and smiled at his boy's hard, bobbing cock.

“See, you can be a good boy when you want to be.”

“Hmm.”

John stepped back from his omega so that they weren't touching anymore. He was impressed when Sherlock's only protest was a low, mournful whine. “Get on the bed, pup, hands and knees. Be sure not to accidentally rub yourself against the bedclothes.”

Sherlock inclined his head. “Would I really do that, sir?” He asked seductively.

The alpha reached over and clipped him on the back of the head.

“Behave!” He said with a smirk.

John climbed up on the bed behind the omega and grasped him by the hips. He couldn't help rutting against the cleft of his arse a few times before lining himself up with Sherlock's wet and sloppy entrance and sinking in.

Sherlock moaned wantonly. “That's it, pup,” he pinched at one of his welts along his arse. “If only you had been a good little boy then this wouldn't be a problem,” he let his palm fall.

Of course, that caused the omega to clench around John's cock. It would have triggered the doctor's knot had it not been for the knot sheath he was wearing. “Oh, pup, do that again.” He gave Sherlock's arse another swat.

Sherlock clenched because he had no other choice.

“Good boy,” John soothed. “This isn't all going to be over quickly, pup. I just figured I'd better tell you that.”

Sherlock squirmed. “But John-”

The alpha put his hand over Sherlock's mouth. “Is a gag going to be necessary, pup?”

Sherlock huffed. “No, sir.”

“Good pup.”

He growled his annoyance and it almost sounded feral.

John pumped in and out of Sherlock's hole a few times, but pulled out completely when his boy started to rock back against him in rhythm.

He moaned until he realised John had a simple ball gag in his hand and wedged it between his teeth in a matter of seconds.

“There, now, pup. Much better.” John kissed the nape of his omega's neck, then bit it lightly. He'd bite him much harder later.

“You're going to have to earn my cock again, Sherlock,” he said reaching down and spinning him over.

The sub's eyes were wide and pleading and his cock jutted up into the air. John sat down beside him and started batting at it, every now and again, giving the head a vicious thump.

Sherlock winced, still managing to whine around the gag.

“Pack it in, pup, it's my turn for some fun, I haven't been able to play with you for days.”

At that, Sherlock looked a little guilty.

The doctor's hands roamed everywhere, pinching and twisting at bits of flesh. When he reached them, he gave Sherlock's nipples a real work-over.

He snagged a pair of nipple clamps and clipped them to the little rosey buds then he removed the gag.

Before Sherlock could open his mouth to speak he wedged the chain between his teeth.

“Do not let that go, pup.”

The omega started to shake his head, then thought better of it. Instead, he blinked once to indicate that he understood.

“Good boy.”

He grinned around it. John set about nipping him in every area he could reach, including around his sensitive nipples.

Next, he moved down and began giving the same treatment to Sherlock's bollocks. He nipped at then, slowly making his way towards his pup's cock.

The detective couldn't hold in his moan this time either and consequently lost the chain that had been gripped between his teeth.

“Naughty boy.” John grabbed the chain and gave it a sharp tug. The omega yelped and rose up on his elbows to ease the pain in his nipples.

“You need to be punished for letting this go, pup,” John said decisively.

Sherlock pouted but inclined his head in understanding.

“You get a choice. I cane you're pretty little cock or you go without orgasm tonight.”

The omega didn't think he could stand not coming, not with the way John would inevitably tease him. “I...” He bit his lip hard, then forced it out, “Cane it, sir.”

John frowned, tilting his own head. “That wasn't the way I was expecting that to go, pup,” he said with a grin.

He wandered to the shelves and selected a thin cane, it made a lovely whoosh as it flew through the air.

Sherlock immediately rolled over in an effort to protect his bits.

“That's more like what I expected.” The alpha brought the cane down on Sherlock's arse to get his attention. “Unless you're safe wording, you had best roll back over, pup.”

Sherlock bit his lip. “Please, sir?” He complained.

“I can relayer the crop strokes with the cane if you'd like?”

“I'm sorry, sir.” He rolled over, still in a tight ball. “No orgasm, sir!” He said quickly when the cane began its whoosh again.

“Too late!” John grinned wickedly. When would his boy ever learn?

The cane came down across the tip of Sherlock's cock and he howled.

He should have thought this through. His cock was going to hurt like hell for ages and there was no way he'd want to orgasm through it. He'd lost out on both…

The alpha tossed the cane aside and bent to kiss the reddened tip of Sherlock's cock. He licked it, then pulled it into his mouth and sucked on it gently, soothing it. When John popped off, he looked up at his pup's face. “Better?”

Sherlock scowled at him, the exact opposite of what John had been expecting.

“What is it, pup?”

He just continued to glare.

John licked the head of the detective's cock one more time. “Tell me, pup.”

“You'll just hit it again and it will hurt and I won't get to come. You're really just punishing me more, aren't you, sir?” Sherlock's tone verged on insolent.

John stared back. “You knew what was coming Sherlock. I gave you a choice.”

“And I changed my mind!” He snapped.

John glared, “watch you're tone!”

The omega grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it, speaking garbled words into the thing.

John reached up and pulled the pillow away. “What was that, pup?”

“I'm confused, sir, and I just want to come.”

“Since when does, 'I want to come' make me do what you demand?”

He glared again.

“I never said you wouldn't get to come, that was your choice. I also said this wouldn't be quick. So buck your attitude up.”

“Yes, sir, John, sir.” Sherlock grabbed the headboard and held on for dear life. He also bit his lip hard to keep from saying anything else to keep him from getting himself into more trouble.

But the second another stroke fell on his cock (a lot less harder than before) Sherlock glared again, yelling “fuck!” Into the air.

“Can we just skip this bit?!” He complained.

John grabbed the chain to the nipple clamps and shoved it between Sherlock's teeth. “Enough! Or you will have a very cross Dom to deal with, not to mention a cross alpha and owner.”

Sherlock spat the chain out petulantly. “I don't want to hold it. And I don't want that thing hitting my cock anymore!” He yelled.

“Are you safe wording?” John asked through shallow breath, he needed an answer before he let go of his temper.

“No!” Sherlock snapped. “Don't be stupid!”

“Very well.” John got out the cuffs and buckled them around his boy's wrists and ankles. At Sherlock's whine, he asked, “What else did you expect?”

“You not to be such an angry arse.”

John flipped his pup over and began cuffing him to te bed.

“I don't know what's happened to you tonight but I am quite willing to deal with it!”

John sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at his boy, his very naughty boy. The pretty arse he was looking at really didn't need to be caned, not as well cropped as it had been of late, but Sherlock's thighs, they were a different matter.

As Sherlock realised what the alpha was up to he thrashed in his restraints.

“John-”

“Shut it, boy!” John barked. He'd had enough. More than enough.

The cane came down across the back of Sherlock's thighs, eliciting a yelp.

“Hush. The quieter and more stoic you take this, the sooner it will be over.” The cane came down again. Thwack! And again. Thwack!

John had to stop himself going overboard. Despite his anger at the boy he didn't want to harm him too much.

He untied him but left the cuffs on.

“John-”

“Shut it, Sherlock. Go and kneel in that corner! Now!” He barked.

Once his omega was in position in the corner, John threw himself down on the bed. He was frustrated with his pup and he was sexually frustrated as well. John began stroking his cock and fondling his balls, being sure to make enough noise for Sherlock to deduce exactly what he was doing.

“John-”

“Get back to addressing me properly, Sherlock!” John yelled, playing with the head of his cock as he did.

“Sir, can I-”

“Don't even think of asking for anything either. And as for an orgasm tonight, you've waved that away. In fact, you aren't coming until your next heat.”

John ripped the knot sheath off. He didn't need it if he was going to bring himself to orgasm. His knot wouldn't appear unless he was inside his pup. He threw the sheath so that it landed next to Sherlock. That should drive home the message of his intention to bring himself to orgasm.

The detective actually moaned but John ignored him. He deserved this. He deserved to be in that corner the entire night.

He wouldn't be, but Sherlock didn't know that.

The detective was supposed to be the dramatic one, but John was pretty good at it himself. As he pleasured himself, he made the most wanton, erotic sounds in an effort to wind up his pup even more. After a while, he started feeling the tiniest bit guilty. But only the tiniest bit.

John yelled out as he came, annoyed it couldn't have been his knot instead. He sat up when he was finished and stared at the back of Sherlock's head.

“Come here, boy.” John held out his arm and beckoned Sherlock to him.

The omega turned from the corner and crawled near, his cock hard and thighs wet from his arousal at listening to John come.

“Are you feeling sorry for yourself?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Or are you feeling sorry for your cock?”

“The second one, sir.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Wrong answer though.”

Sherlock ducked his head and sighed. “I just thought-”

John grabbed his pup's cock and used it as a handle to pull him up so that he was straddling his lap. “You know, I could cage your cock and in a few minutes, I imagine I'd be able to fuck you again. Do you think you could come like that? With my knot in you, but your cock locked away?”

Sherlock closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked away.

“No, sir.”

“No, you wouldn't. But it would be what you deserve, wouldn't it?”

Sherlock thought of his bruised arse. “Yes, sir,” he agreed, deciding he'd rather go along with the alpha than try and defend his actions.

“Oh, pup.” John began stroking Sherlock's cock with soft, steady strokes. He reached around him with his other hand and worked two fingers into his slick entrance. It wasn't long until he had his pup on the edge of orgasm.

Sherlock looked up at him and grinned.

“Oh no no no, boy, that's not happening.”

He pulled his fingers free abruptly.

“Go and dig out the cage.”

The omega's mouth fell open in disbelief. “But John-”

“But nothing. I'll get it.” He shoved the detective so that he fell onto his side on the bed, then fetched the cage.

“Sir-”

John silenced him with a glare as he returned with the cage.

“Your heat is only a weak away, pup, remember that.”

“Only!”

“Only.” John locked the cage on Sherlock's cock then hung the key to it on a chain around his own neck. “You'll survive until then on orgasm denial.” He placed a kiss on the stunned detective's lips. “I can't wait until you're begging to have me inside you, pup. When your heat arrives, nothing will keep me from knotting you.”


	4. Together

John woke to Sherlock wrapped all around him, licking and kissing his neck. The smell of the detective... That unmistakable scent... The doctor rolled them over so he ended up on top of his omega. “God, you've gone into heat.” He kissed Sherlock roughly even as he fumbled for the chain the held the key to his pup's cock cage.

“Mmm,” Sherlock moaned. “It just happened.”

“We both knew it was coming, 'Lock.” He kissed his pup on the lips as he slid the key into the padlock.

“Mmm.” Sherlock grabbed John's thighs as the doctor straddled him. “I need you inside me. Pleeease,” he begged.

“Patience, pup.” John intended to take things as slow as possible, but he wasn't sure he could hold out. The biological imperative to take Sherlock was already building rapidly. The look in his boy's eye just made him want the brat more. “You know, if I didn't know any better I would have said you forced this heat in order to get out of this.” He waved the cock cage about for a second before chucking it on the bean bag on the floor.

The detective reached and grasped John's cock, giving it a tug. “In, in, in, in.”

“Spread your legs, pup.” John stroked his omega's cock, ran his hands over his bollocks, then kept going to feel the wetness at Sherlock's entrance. He ran his fingers in and out a few times. “Are we going for our record?”

Sherlock panted, then insisted, “More. More. More.”

John gripped his cock and gave it a squeeze. It was going to be nearly impossible to hold out, he could feel it. “I cou... could eat you alive, you smell so good.” He matched word to deed and started nibbling on Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock scrunched his neck up. “Ticklish,” he moaned. “Now, get. In. Me.”

“Hey!” John smacked his pup on the arse. “Don't start with the attitude, heat or not.”

“Mmm, yes, sir.”

“I own you, remember.”

The detective bucked up into John, writhing. “Yesss. Show me.”

The alpha moaned as he bit just a little harder, leaving a mark that all would be able to see. He'd show Sherlock. He'd show everyone that he owned the detective. “How's that?” he asked, panting.

“Do it again.”

John left his pup's hole alone and grabbed his wrists, flipping him over so he was looking down on him. “Being rather forceful today, pup,” John stated the obvious, but didn't care if Sherlock picked up on it.

“I'm sorry, sir. Please.”

“Bad pup.” John knew he couldn't hold out much longer. He lined himself up and began thrusting between Sherlock's thighs sliding over his omega's perineum and bollocks. “I could do this for hours,” he bluffed. In fact, he knew he'd be inside the detective in a matter of a few minutes.

“No, sir, no, please!”

“Apologise, pup,” John ordered, a smirk on his voice.

“I'm sorry, sir.”

With that, John thrust in.

Sherlock cried out in pleasure. He finally, finally had what he needed. Each time John thrust into him, he gasped and moaned. It was impossible to have enough of his alpha inside him. Even so he pushed back onto John's cock.

“I can't help but love it when you are eager, pup,” John said with a wry grin.

The alpha sucked a mark onto Sherlock's neck as he drove into him. He could feel his knot swelling as he neared his climax. It was coming far too soon.

Moaning and writhing beneath him, the omega felt himself being filled even further. John's swelling knot slid along his insides and was driving him towards frantic bliss. Sherlock lifted his hips to meet each of his alpha's thrusts, desperate to come before they were locked together. He chased his orgasm relentlessly, finally climaxing and calling John's name.

John's cock and knot, ever so sensitive, responded to the clenching heat that surrounded it and he was driven to his own climax. As he came, his knot grew even larger. The doctor bit down on Sherlock's neck as near the back as he could reach and held on as their bodies locked together. It would be several minutes before they could part. For now, they were one unit, almost one being.

John sat back pulling Sherlock with him. There was nothing else they could do but lay there and cuddle together.

The omega heaved deep breaths as he tried to relax into John's arms.

The doctor kissed every inch of Sherlock's body that he could reach and ran soothing hands along his back. “Shh, shh, pup. I've got you, you gorgeous thing.” All he wanted to do was calm Sherlock, despite his own trembling from the orgasmic high.

His pup always behaved like this in his heat - he was a blubbering mess. Emotionally and the obvious need to be filled.

He smiled into Sherlock's curls and breathed in the heady scent of him. “God, I love you so much.”

The omega shook with emotion. “I love you, John,” he croaked out.

John couldn't help the giggle that escaped. Sherlock was so unguarded at moments like this. “I know, pup. I love you too.”

“Can you hurry up and get out of me? I need a wee?”

The alpha laughed again. That didn't mean he wasn't still Sherlock. “You know how this works,” he ran his hand through his sweaty curls.

Sherlock made an annoyed sound and buried his face against John's shoulder.

“I know, you're getting bored.”

The omega looked up at that, indignant. “I could never be bored when I'm with you.”

“Bollocks. You complain about being bored all the time.”

“That's when we're watching telly. That's different.”

“Don't try and lie to me, pup, you know it won't work.”

Sherlock smirked,  but John couldn't see it. Even so, he knew exactly what the brat was doing.

The omega yelped when John smacked him on his arm.

“Be glad I can't give that glorious arse of yours a proper spanking, you git.” He kissed Sherlock's temple. “And before you ask why, I just want to feel it get hot under my palm.”

The omega wriggled a bit, but John's knot didn't offer to release him. “As long as it's your hand, I wouldn't mind, sir.” They cuddled a bit longer “What is it with you today?” He whispered after a moment. “You're not letting me go.”

“Maybe I don't want to,” John responded smugly, “I'm comfy like this. I think I'll keep holding you even after my knot goes down.”

Sherlock didn't say anything. He secretly quite liked that notion.


End file.
